The High School Boys' Training Hike Part 2

"Unfortunately, I can't," replied the submaster. "I'm expected at home. My mother and sister claim me for this month. But I wish I could go, just the same."

"You would be most welcome I a.s.sure you, sir," replied d.i.c.k warmly.

"Thank you, Prescott," returned Mr. Luce with a smile. "I appreciate your invitation and regret that I cannot accept it."

The conversation again turned to the subject of the coming football season, and an animated discussion ensued, as Sub-master Luce was an enthusiastic advocate of football.

Suddenly, d.i.c.k, glancing ahead out of the window, turned pale.

Without a word of explanation he sprang from his seat and made a bound for the nearer car door, the rear one.

"Everyone off! Stop the car! Hustle!" shouted the high school boy. "Mr. Luce! Come on. Quick!"

By the time the last words were uttered d.i.c.k had made a flying leap from the car platform.

By good luck, rather more than by expert work, he landed on his feet. Not an instant did he lose, but dashed along at full speed.

John Luce, though he had no inkling of what had caused the excitement, sprang after d.i.c.k.

d.i.c.k, however, had not waited to see if the sub-master had followed him. His horror-filled eyes, as he ran, were turned straight ahead.

It needed but a few steps to carry him across the road. He bounded into a field where a loaded hay wagon stood near an apple tree.

The horses had been led away to be fed. Seated on the top of the hay were a boy of barely six and a girl not more than four years old. They were awaiting the return of the farmer.

Down below a six-year-old boy, barefooted and brown as a gipsy, had appeared on the scene during the farmer's absence.

"For fun" this youngster had been lighting match after match, making believe to set the hay afire. As he held the matches as close to the dried hay as he dared, this urchin on the ground called to the two babies above that he would "burn 'em up."

Not all of this did d.i.c.k Prescott know, but his glance through the car window had shown him the boy on the ground just as that tiny fellow had lighted another match, shouting tantalizingly to the two children on top of the load of hay.

Just as he called up to them the mischievous youngster tripped slightly. Throwing out his right hand to save himself the boy accidentally touched the bottom of the load at one side with the lighted match.

At this fateful instant it was out of the question to think of putting out the flame that leaped from wisp to wisp of the dried gra.s.s.

"Jump!" shouted the young match-burner, but the children above did not hear, or else did not realize their plight.

"Fire! Fire!" screamed the little incendiary, as he ran panic-stricken toward the farm house.

And now d.i.c.k was racing as he had never done before, even over the football gridiron. On his speed depended the lives of the two children.

CHAPTER II

THE DEED OF A HERO

At the moment of d.i.c.k's leap from the car, Sub-master Luce did not know what had happened. He realized in an instant what was the matter, and made frantic efforts to reach the scene at the same moment with Prescott.

d.i.c.k, however, kept the lead.

As the flames shot up through the hay the children on top of the hay began to gather a sense of their awful danger.

Seconds---fractions of seconds---were of priceless value now---if lives were to be saved.

There was still time for the two children to jump over the side on which the flames had not yet appeared, but they were too badly frightened to know what to do.

If they should jump where the flames were leaping up they were almost certain to have their clothing catch fire, with fatal burns as a result.

d.i.c.k felt that he did not have time to shout to the frightened children. Besides, his commands would likely serve only to confuse them the more.

Terror-stricken the two little ones clasped each other and stood screaming with fear on the top of the load.

d.i.c.k's quick eye had taken in the only chance in this terrifying situation.

Straight for the apple tree he bounded, his first leap carrying him into a crotch in the tree a few feet above the ground.

Out he sprang, now, on a limb of the tree that most nearly overhung the load of hay.

That limb sagged under him---creaked---threatened to snap off under his weight.

But young Prescott, wholly heedless of his own safety, and with only one object in mind, scrambled out on the creaking limb as far as he could; then, with a prayer on his lips, he made a wild, strenuous leap.

Sub-master Luce turned white as he saw what d.i.c.k had attempted to do. Had he been made of more timorous stuff the high school teacher would have closed his eyes for that awful instant.

As it was, John Luce saw young Prescott land at the rear end of the load.

d.i.c.k felt himself slipping. For one frenzied second, he feared that he had failed. Young Strongheart that he was, he braced all his muscles for the supreme effort---and drew himself up to safer footing on the hay.

Then, like an eagle, he swooped down upon the children. The little girl he s.n.a.t.c.hed from her tiny brother's clasp.

"Here!" called Sub-master Luce from the further side.

Brief as the time was d.i.c.k Prescott calculated the distance like lightning. There was no time to call back to Mr. Lucen---nor need to do so.

Aiming with all the precision at his command, d.i.c.k threw the child from him.

His aim splendidly true, he had the joy of seeing the child land in Mr. Luce's arms.

Without a moment's loss of time Prescott now s.n.a.t.c.hed up the shrieking boy.

"Ready!" shouted d.i.c.k, and a second little body was thrown through the air.

Again did John Luce do credit to his college baseball training, for, hurriedly placing the girl baby on the ground he put up his hands to receive the boy.

"Jump yourself, Prescott!" bawled the submaster hoa.r.s.ely.

But d.i.c.k was already in the air. With the flames shooting up and seeming fairly to lick his face, d.i.c.k had had no time to calculate his jump.